


The tale of Marco the clumsy incubus

by HydrangeaPartridge



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Drama, M/M, Romance, human Jean, incubus marco, no smut cause I suck at it, slight eren/levi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 12:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2268882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HydrangeaPartridge/pseuds/HydrangeaPartridge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean is a writer on the rise but is actually struggling with a huge writer block. Marco is a young incubus who isn't so good at his job.<br/>When the two meet, will they be able to help each other with their respective problems?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Late night meeting

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of this fic got stuck in my head a while ago and so I decided to write about it. I'm not a native english speaker and I don't have a beta reader so forgive me for the possible mistakes...  
> Jean/Marco is my absolute OTP, so I hope I'll honor them with this fic.

Jean closed the blank Word page and shut his computer down. He sighed as he glanced up at his old wall-clock. It was way past midnight and he hadn't found any idea for his new novel, of which the first chapter was to be published in the Trost's top selling newspaper the following week. His last work for them had so much success that they had immediately ordered him a new writing with the promise of a very generous pay. Only if it stole the heart of the readers of course ; and for it to work, he needed to write it first, which was going to be more complex than he imagined.

Jean didn't even know how his last story obtained such a good review for it was a gory horror about giants who ate people. He was even surprised they published it.  
Exhausted, he took off his shirt and unceremoniously slumped on his bed. He then turned his alarm clock off ; maybe a good lie-in would help curing his writer block. Shortly after turning the lights off, he fell into a deep slumber, not imagining that something was lurking in the shadows, watching him.

 

–----------

 

It was getting harder and harder to breathe, as if there was a dead weight on his torso. Then, something tickled his neck ; maybe a mosquito. Still half asleep, Jean reached blindly to crush it.

« Ouch ! »

Jean's eyes snapped open, alarmed at the sound of a male voice next to his ear, and he saw in the darkness, sitting on his hips, a body-like shape that seemed to be rubbing its head.

Panicked that a potentially dangerous stranger had penetrated his house, he pushed the form away with all his force and easily sent it crashing on the floor with another « ouch ». He didn't remember having so much force.

He then turned the lights on to take a look at his aggressor.  
His eyes widened upon seeing what lied on the floor, all curled up and massaging its head. It was a young man, completely naked ! He was quite tall, with short brown hair, and no doubt Jean pushed him off easily, he was really skinny. His ribs were showing and not an ounce of fat could be spotted. His skin was a bit pale and covered in more freckles than Jean had ever seen in his whole life ; it was like a map of the galaxy on this boy's body. But the most surprising was the guy's thin and long black tail that ended in a heart shaped form.

Jean blinked and wondered if he was still asleep. Usually people don't end up with a naked guy with a tail in their bedroom ; he must be dreaming.  
The writer was put out of his thoughts when the creature lying on the floor looked up to him with gorgeously bright golden eyes. He stared into those mesmerizing orbs and they stared back at him for what seemed like an eternity before the freckled face of the intruder became strangely contorted and a vivid crimson.

« AAH ! No ! No ! what should I do ?! »

Golden eyes scanned the room panicking before the creature clumsily got up. Jean watched him, fascinated and clueless.

« Hey, what are you ? » he calmly asked.

The boy, who had his back to him, turned back to look at him and blushed some more before looking away and pacing in the room.

«Why can't things ever go right ? » he whined to himself

« Hey, I asked you a question. » 

Jean was starting to get a bit annoyed by the current hyperactivity of his late night guest.

« You answer or you leave »

The creature stopped in its tracks and seemed to smile.

« Yes, leaving, I should just leave » He said, looking relieved. He then straightened up and closed his eyes, like he was concentrating on something.

Jean, still sitting on his bed, observed him with an inquiring look. This dream, if it was one, was getting stranger and stranger.  
The freckled boy suddenly started blinking and looking around his feet.

« Oh no, I can't teleport, what am I going to do? » He muttered.

He then fell to his knees, clenching his fists and stopped moving.

Jean was flabbergasted. His exhausted mind couldn't understand the events unfolding before his eyes, but one thing was for sure, this creature seemed depressed and seeing such a sad expression on this freckled face gave him a pang.  
He got up from his bed and walked closer to the boy, kneeling beside him, but not daring to touch him.

« Hum, I don't know what's the problem... or even what you are, but you can stay a little if you can't go home or something. » Jean said, rubbing the back of his head.

In response, he was greeted by a pair of watery golden eyes.

« Really ? »

«Yeah. » Jean said, diverting his gaze « But you'll have to put some clothes on and tell me why you're here. » He added while pointing awkwardly at the freckled body in front of him.

 

–----------

 

« An incubus ? » Jean asked « I never thought they were real ! »

The creature, who was now siting on the bed with Jean in borrowed t-shirt and boxers, nodded.

« Of course we are real ! Do you think there are humans with enough imagination to make up demon stories ? » The freckled boy said with an adorable pout that almost made Jean blush, not picking out the slight insult to his specie. After all, the demon was quite right, seeing Jean's own imagination wasn't really impressive (especially these days).

« So you are supposed to be a demon? To be a creature of evil ? »  
Jean's question was welcomed with another nod.

« You don't really look like one... except maybe for the tail and the eyes but that's not even scary »

The incubus' pout increased and Jean laughed a bit.

« By the way, I'm Jean. What's your name ? » Jean said pointing at himself proudly « That is if you even have one » he then added hesitantly

« Nice to meet you Jean, and of course I have one. I'm Marco » The incubus answered smiling gently

Jean blinked a few times, a bit puzzled at Marco's politeness.

«Marco ?...  That doesn't sound really demonic. » He said «  Not that you look really demonic anyway » 

He laughed but stopped when he saw the frown on Marco's face. His eyes were on his feet, his mouth forming a tight line.

« Sorry, did I say something wrong ? » Jean asked, concerned

Marco looked away.

« It's just that I'm not so good at being an incubus ...»

« Yeah, I saw that !» Jean replied a bit too quickly « Sorry... I mean, it must be a tough job huh ? » he awkwardly added, even though in his head spending nights of pleasure with handsome people seemed more like a dream job; maybe just a bit tiring.

« You can't even imagine. I don't have enough confidence for this. I'm so bad at being a demon. Even though it's supposed to be in my nature, I sucked at training from the beginning and the others made fun of me, so I didn't dare doing anything anymore ; I felt so bad that I even stopped attending sexual practice, which was dumb because now I can't feed properly and I'm starving and you don' t know how hard it is to find a good pray, without coming into another incubus' territory- »

« Wow wow wow, slow down okay, calm down. » Jean interrupted Marco's rambling monologue as the demon was about to break into tears.

«  But, wait a minute » Jean continued, questioning, «  Why did you choose to come « visit » me in particular tonight ? »

Marco looked surprised and blushed a little.

« Well.. » He started, playing with his fingers « I'm not very good with women, I don't know what to do, you know, the chest and all, I don't know where to start, and I thought that maybe guys would be easier, because their anatomy is closer to mine, so I should understand better how it works. And then I looked for a place far away from any other incubus and I spotted you, and you're quite attractive so I tried you know. » Marco finished his second rambling session with a shy smile

Jean took a few seconds to process what the demon just said

« Ok, and how did you know that I was... attracted to gentlemen ? » He finally asked

« I just know by instinct. At least that's one ability I have. » Marco answered with a sweet smile « I'm glad you're not making fun of me for... you know, my lack of... professional qualities. »

Jean laughed a bit to clear off the slightly awkward atmosphere.

« Well, I myself am obviously not very good with the ladies so I don't think I could judge you »

They smiled at each other, falling into a comfortable silence, taking this time to study each other's face a little bit. Taking a closer look, Marco was really cute and he truly had the most wonderful eyes Jean had ever seen. They were big and there was no white in them, just pure liquid gold with a large circle of slightly paler yellow in the middle from which rays of pale yellow left to join in the center, forming a sort of star.  
Jean's eyes then fell on Marco lips, but not before admiring his pale freckled cheeks for a bit. His lips were thin and pale but seemed so soft. Rather than demonic, the incubus looked more angelic.

The writer lent forward, his face slowly coming closer to Marco's questioning one. The demon didn't move and was about to close his eyes when suddenly, a loud growl was heard.

Jean opened his eyes, surprised. He quickly stepped back, looking away and clearing his throat.

« I see you weren't kidding when you said you were starving. » He said

« I'm sorry, but I haven't eaten since I left training school » Marco replied mortified, his face all red.

Jean only smiled at him and got up from the bed answering to Marco's questioning look that he was going to feed him. He didn't know what time it was, but it was obvious that he wasn't going to sleep anymore ; not with his new improvised guest. So he thought he might as well cook the both of them a nice breakfast. 

« So what will you be taking ? Eggs ? Bacon ? Both ? » Jean asked while walking towards the bedroom's door. 

Not hearing any answer, he turned back to Marco who was awkwardly fidgeting on the bed.

« You see, I don't really eat this kind of things... » He finally said

Jean was about to answer that he should tell him what he wanted but then he turned red when he remembered the very rare stories about incubi he had read. When Marco explained a few seconds later that he fed on humans pleasure, the writer felt even more embarrassment creep inside him. He didn't know where to put himself and the atmosphere suddenly felt unbelievably heavy.

Marco didn't dare moving or talking either. As an incubus, he was supposed to be able initiate his feeding process without trouble, but he was far too shy a demon for this.

It was Jean who finally broke the silence, after careful consideration :

« You can give me a blowjob. »

The sentence was so blunt that Marco escaped a choked « what ?! » to which Jean responded by a mess of explanations :

« I mean that, if you're okay with it and it can help you with your hunger, I don't mind you sucking my dick. » 

After an awkward but short silence, Marco burst into laughter. Jean's eyes that were glued on his feet looked up to the demon, full of surprise. Marco's laugh was clear and joyful ; its unique sound made Jean's chest swell and forced a smile to his lips.

« What's so funny ? » He asked

« Well, it's just that you're not really poetic about it » Marco said, weeping the small crystalline drops that had formed at the corner of his eyes « But it's a deal ! In our common interest, I will suck you off. »

 

–--------

 

« Ouch ! Don 't put your teeth, you're gonna emasculate me ! » Jean cried while pushing Marco's face away from his sore crotch.

« I'm sorry. I told you I wasn't good at this. I can't even put it all in my mouth...» Marco answered quietly while whipping his mouth with the back of his hand.

The gesture and Marco's words involuntary made Jean's recently gone arousal come back. The incubus was just so cute with his innumerable freckles and his kind shining eyes.

« It's okay, you can try again, but don't use your teeth. » Jean warned « And you can use your hand to touch the part that won't fit in your mouth »

The writer's statement was welcomed with a vigorous nod from the demon. He couldn't believe he was teaching things like this to a demon of sexual pleasure ; and without being too embarrassed. He usually didn't like talking so openly about sex in general and he never thought he could be teaching someone about it ; especially not when he only had few partners. Maybe the lack of sleep was affecting his personality, or maybe it was the complex and indescribable attraction he was experiencing towards his new acquaintance. 

 

–---------

 

After what was probably a good half an hour, Jean laid in his bed, eyes closed in his post orgasmic bliss. Of course it was far from the best blow job he had ever had, but it had been so long since the last one, and Marco's concentrated face while he sucked him off had been so gloriously cute that it had finally felt pretty good.

After a few minutes of rest, Jean opened his eyes to find Marco quietly sitting next to him, slowly massaging his jaw.

« Thanks for that, my stomach feels better now » The incubus said, smiling « But my jaw hurts a bit, you're quite big. »

Even if he knew that he wasn't that big, Jean still felt flattered.

« I should be the one thanking you » He replied with a yawn.

Jean's lack of sleep was catching up to him. It was almost 6.00 a.m and his eyelids were starting to close on their own.  
So when Marco asked if he could stay until Jean woke up, the writer answered with a weak « do what you want» before falling asleep ; not without a last thought about how good this young demon looked in his clothes.

Maybe Marco's seduction power wasn't as weak as he thought it was.


	2. The beginning of a new story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. In this chapter the actual plot starts to develop.  
> I hope you will enjoy it^^

Jean's face was uncomfortably hot. He cracked open one eye, only to immediately close it as he was dazzled by the bright sun rays filtering through the window.  
The writer was about to stir when he felt a numbness in his left arm. He tried to move it, but it was impossible. Opening both his eyes to see what the problem was, he found golden eyes and was greeted Marco's warm smile.

« Good morning Jean »

« Good morning » Jean answered a bit out of it. His mind was slowly waking up, remembering bit by bit the events of the previous night.

Looking around him, Jean realized that he was actually embracing Marco with his arms and that his legs were entangled with the incubus' ones. Marco's face was close to his chest, his breath slightly tickling him. Jean then glanced at his alarm clock. Almost 12:00. Well that was a good lie-in !

« Have you been awake for long ? »

Marco shook his head.

« I haven't slept. Us incubi don't need to really sleep, especially not at night. But we rest a bit sometimes though. » He explained « I would have gotten up, but you caught me in your arms in the middle of the night and I haven't been able to move since then. I didn't want to wake you up, you seemed so tired... » He added, a faint blush tainting his cheeks.

Jean's mouth formed a little « o » as he listened to Marco. He then proceeded to free the demon from his grasp and sat up on the bed, scratching his head while apologizing for his behaviour.

Marco said it was okay before an awkward silence set between the two men. Jean fidgeted, eyes nervously scanning the room, looking for something to say. But when he opened his mouth, Marco started talking.

« I should go, incubi aren't supposed to stay amongst humans during the day... » The demon said while looking at his feet.  
He slowly took off the clothes Jean had lend him, thanking him for them and the rest of the night.

Jean stared at the demon's naked body. In the light of the day, he saw more of his skinny built, his freckles, that were literally everywhere, his bony but broad shoulders, his narrow hips. He saw everything of Marco's body and the sudden though of never seeing it again filled him with a sudden anxiety.   
He realized he wanted to touch this imperfect body, he wanted to hear this gentle voice again, and those eyes, god, he wanted ; no he felt like he needed to meet them more, to drown in them. Seeing those feelings of lust and need, Marco was probably not as bad an incubus as he thought, because at that moment, Jean realized he desired this awkward creature more than he ever desired anyone.

Jean could have just asked the demon to come back, or even to stay. After all, he had been the demon's first « prey », wasn't it making him special ? The thought of being alone again and even more, the thought of Marco paying night visits to other guys (or girls) upset Jean and made his stomach feel sick.  
In one night he had grown attached to this creature, probably more than Marco to him, and that realization mortified him. 

While Jean's thoughts about his feelings were racing, Marco was concentrating, preparing for his leave, not without a little fear of what would happen to him. He knew he wouldn't dare coming back to Jean, he had already abused his kindness enough. So he would have to do his best to feed and stay alive. He sighed at the thought. He felt like he would miss Jean, even thought he just knew him for a few hours. He then wondered if demons were supposed to experience these kind of feelings ; after all, humans were just supposed to be preys (at least that's what they taught at incubi's school).

« Don't go »

Marco's golden eyes swiftly met Jean's. Those few words made his heart swell in a way he never experienced. It felt weird but also nice. 

« Stay. I'll feed you, so stay » Jean answered the demon's silence with a pleading look

But before Marco could answer, there was a loud banging noise coming from the front door, accompanied by a shout of Jean's full name.

« Crap, it's my editor » Jean mumbled « You have to hide ! »

The writer unceremoniously shoved the surprised Marco in his closet before rushing down the stairs to open the front door. The frame revealed a short blond boy with a serious expression. He sighed.

« Jean, You didn't answer any of my calls, I was starting to worry, but now I see that you were just sleeping ! » The blond reproached him while entering the house. « You know, with your talent, I'm sure you could become famous really quickly if you weren't so lazy ! »

Jean closed the door behind his friend and editor before replying :

« I'm not lazy, and I'm most certainly not talented Armin, I don't know why you put your faith on me like this. »

Armin glared at him, pulling out his coat and neatly hanging it on the stair's guardrail.

« You are talented, have you seen the reviews on your story for Trost's Times ? I don't know were you found the idea of men-eating monsters but it was brilliant ! » He said « By the way, you know why I'm here. Have you started writing the first chapter of your new piece ? »

Jean put his face in his hands. He had to tell Armin that he didn't find any idea for this new story but he knew he was going to get a serious lecture afterward. The only thought of it made him want to go back to bed.   
Actually that wasn't such a bad idea, going back to bed, but not alone. Maybe he could help Marco improve his blowjob technique a little bit. Yeah, that sounded good.

« Jean, are you listening to me ? »

–----------

After lecturing him for a least 30 minutes, Armin had left, but not without making Jean promise that he would have at least found a concept for his story before the following day.

Depressed, the writer sluggishly climbed up the stairs, only to collapse on his bed, burying his face in the covers. He doubted he could overcome his writer block in just one day, and without this contract, he was going to have trouble paying his rent at the end of the month. He should have saved up more of the money he gained with his previous story. But no, he had to just buy a new tv, a new computer, a new billiard table (that he never used by the way)... he just hated himself.

« Are you okay ? Your friend didn't go very easy on you. »

The sound of Marco's voice was like music to his ears. After Armin's brainwashing speech about work, Jean had totally forgotten the presence of the demon.

«You were listening ? Weren't you supposed to be hiding in the closet ? » Jean asked, voice muffled by the covers

Marco's soft laugh made Jean's chest swell. He approached the bed, still naked.

« I didn't need to hide in the closet, us incubi can turn invisible to human eyes. » The demon said with a smile. « It's a bit tiring but it's very useful » He added while climbing on the bed.

Jean looked up to him, curious : « What are you doing? »

Marco blushed and looked away

« Well since I spent energy on turning invisible, I could use a refill and you seem like you need cheering up so I thought that maybe you could help me practicing my blowjobs again. »

Jean's cock gave an interested twitch, a slight blush painting his cheeks too.

« I guess it can't be helped, if it benefits the both of us, I can't say no ! »

–--------

“You're sure you don't want to take a shower too?” Jean asked as he dried his wet hair with a clean white towel. He just got out of a refreshing shower and was now standing in his room with only a towel around his waist. He felt perked up, his spirits higher.

“No, like all my congeners I don't have to wash. It's hard to explain but we have some sort of autowash. When we feed it often gets a little bit... messy so always washing would be troublesome.” The still naked Marco explained.

“That's weird” Jean said laughing a bit. 

He still couldn't believe he had taken a demon as a housemate. But he didn't treat Marco like he was from another specie, he didn't see him like that. He wondered why. Maybe it was his simple but kind personality, or maybe his adorableness. His only presence felt good.  
No, even when staring into those unusual eyes, he couldn't see a creature of evil in him. It was just Marco. Marco the clumsy incubus.

Marco the clumsy incubus he repeated in his head. That sounded good.

“That's it!” He exclaimed, rushing to his pricy computer, his towel almost falling to the floor.

–--------

Marco sat patiently on the floor, studying Jean as he restlessly typed on his computer. He didn't really understand what was going on but seeing the writer's concentrated face, he knew he shouldn't distract him.

Jean had been typing non stop for almost two hours now. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn't see the time pass, and completely forgot his surroundings.

A few minutes later, the writer's agitated fingers finally came to a halt. Jean sighed and lent back against his leather desk-chair.

“I did it” He whispered to himself.

Jean clicked the save button proudly. It had been so long since he had such a writing frenzy. His eyes felt tired and burning but he was glad he had finally overcome his writer's block. He had written the whole first chapter of his new story for the Trost's Times. He sent a quick text to Armin about it and then turned back to the person without whom all of this would have been impossible.

Marco's golden eyes were inquisitive as Jean turned back to meet them, so the writer proceeded to explain the demon about his work, his deadline and his brilliant idea to make him the lead character of his new story. He then anxiously asked Marco how he felt about it, suddenly afraid he would hate him for it.

“It's an honor for me to help you like this, but it's a bit embarrassing, your readers are going to make fun of me aren't they. Even if they won't know I really exist of course...” The incubus said slowly, unsure.

Seeing Marco's distress, Jean took his hands in his, brown eyes meeting golden ones in a determined look.

“No, I'm sure they're gonna love you!”

–--------

“It's a bit strange but I think they're going to like it. After a bit of editing of course.” Armin stated, sipping his latte “But it's a change for you to write comedy, not that I mind, change is often good.”

Jean let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He was currently sitting at the round wooden table of a random café of the Capital, an untouched black expresso in front of him. His editor made him come here first thing in the morning to assess the beginning of “The adventure of Marco the clumsy incubus”. Or “possible future success” as Armin called it.

“You know, it's kind of funny this incubus thing because it reminds me of something I experienced!”

The loud annoying voice was enough to make Jean frown, his mood suddenly dropping.

“Shut up Jaeger, I don't need your opinion” He grumbled, glaring at said brown-haired boy.

Jean hated it but Armin had to always bring his best friend Eren with him to read his work. The blond said it brought a fresh and non professional opinion. But for Jean, Eren and his opinion could go to hell. He was already very bad at accepting criticism or comments, so coming from this jerk it was the worst.  
Jean didn't know why he couldn't stand Jaeger; from the first time he saw him, he just didn't like him. At all. And it was a mutual feeling.

“Eren, not that story again, it's getting old, and it's kind of embarrassing, have some shame!” Armin whined

“What story?” Jean asked, suddenly curious. If it was embarrassing for Jaeger, it was interesting for him.

“Well, you see...” Eren started not so proudly “I have those recurring dreams about a guy I never met doing... you know, pleasant things to me. It's really hot and realist, and every nights it's always the same guy! I thought it matched your definition of an incubus, so...”

“Don't be stupid Eren” Armin cut him “Demons don't exist, right Jean?”

“Yeah, of course...” Jean quickly answered with a start and not with much confidence. He didn't like to lie but he was sure that if he said he had an incubus waiting for him at home, his friends wouldn't believe him and would surely question his mental health.

“See?” Armin continued, his gaze falling to Eren “He's probably just someone you saw on tv or in the streets.”

Eren didn't hold forth on the matter, but it left Jean perplex. Of course it was obvious that Marco wasn't the only incubus in Trost, but to think that Jaeger was visited by one too was intriguing. He would have to question him more about it when Armin won't be around.

–--------

Back at home, Jean was greeted by a strange smell, like a maybe gazoline, mixed with the sourness of something burning. He hurried in the direction of the scent, afraid the house was on fire, only to find himself in the kitchen, in front of an almost naked Marco.  
In fact, the demon was wearing only Jean's black cooking apron, letting his firm freckled butt-cheeks and swinging tail exposed to the writer's eyes. The incubus seemed concentrated as he was handling a frying pan above the gas cooker, not without difficulty.

Jean was filled with complex feelings. First, arousal; the demon was so cute and sexy like this, he couldn't deny it. Second, fear and despair for his kitchen and his food. As the flame of the stove suddenly turned blue for an unknown reason, he decided to intervene.

“What are you doing?”

Marco let out a surprised yelp and jumped, making half of the content of the pan fall onto the floor. The mixture seemed thick and had a strange brownish color. Upon realizing his blunder, the demon let out an adorable “oups”.

Jean sighed, coming closer to the battlefield. He then proceeded to turn off the heat, place the pan and its dubious content on the table before cleaning the floor with a sponge. Marco watched him do quietly, like a child who did stupidities.

“I wanted to cook you breakfast.” The demon finally said “The other day you said something about eggs, so I looked up a recipe on the internet”

“You know how to use internet?” Jean asked surprised 

“Of course, it's one of the first thing we're taught. It's the best way to gather information about humans and particularly their desires. After all most sites are pornographic.” Marco simply stated “By the way, you should erase your browsing history.”

Jean didn't know if he ought to be shocked, embarrassed or angry. No, angry wasn't an option, you couldn't be angry at such a face.   
The incubus answered Jean's silence by continuing his explanations:

“Anyway, I was hoping to make you scrambled eggs and followed the recipe but I think at some point something went wrong”

Jean took a closer look at the mixture waiting in the frying pan. The eggs were burned, there was no doubt, but what had made the mix so greasy and thick?   
Wait, he knew.

“You put oil in that didn't you? Where did you find it?” The writer asked

“In the garage.” Marco answered, oblivious

Jean stroked his eyes with his thumb and index finger.

“You're supposed to use olive oil, not engine oil!” Jean shout out with violent and incoherent hand gesture “If I eat that, I will probably die!”

Marco's face fell as tears formed at the corner of his golden eyes, making them shine brighter than usual. As the demon averted his eyes from Jean with a low “sorry”, he immediately regretted shouting at him. After all, he was just trying to be nice.  
He came closer to Marco and slowly whipped the tears from his eyes with his thumbs. He gently forced the demon to look him in the eyes before saying softly:

“I'm sorry for yelling at you. I'm sure next time you'll do better.” 

Marco loudly sniffed, biting his lips to hold back more tears of frustration. It gave Jean a pang.

“You know, I'm actually glad you made a mess of my kitchen, I'll have something to write for my next chapter! Thank you Marco.” the writer added tenderly, trying to console his housemate.

He was rewarded with a small but genuine smile and his irritation from before was gone.

–-------

Jean had finally taken the reins of the cooking and had prepared himself lunch (because it was actually getting a bit late for breakfast) composed of proper scrambled eggs and sausages.

Marco had observed him at work with a fascinated expression.

“You're really good at cooking!” He praised Jean who was sitting across him, chewing a bit of sausage

Jean swallowed before answering that it wasn't a very difficult dish but that he had always liked cooking and so had become quite good at it, thanks to practice.  
The writer then realized that Marco was still wearing his apron, with nothing underneath.

“If you want to borrow me clothes, you can you know” he said, fork unprecisely pointing at the demon

Marco looked surprised, glancing down at his outfit.

“Thanks but incubi are always naked so wearing clothes feels kind of weird”

Jean asked him why he wore an apron then, to which the demon answered that he didn't want to get dirty while cooking.

“I also thought it was a bit sexy” He added almost innocently

Jean's fork stopped mid-air.  
Marco shouldn't say things that made him want to bang him on the table so casually. Even if he was an incubus, that was no excuse. The writer scanned his face to find hints of potential “feeding time”, but it seemed liked the brunette had already moved on, golden eyes curiously looking around the kitchen. So Jean resumed eating, not without a bit of deception.

“Can I taste your food?” Marco suddenly asked after a few minutes, eyes glued to Jean's plate

“Wouldn't it be bad for you?” Jean equally questioned

“No, it won't nourish me but it won't hurt me either.” came the answer

The writer shrugged and aimed his fork full of food to Marco, expecting him to take it. But instead, the demon moved his head forward, caching the food between his lips, making Jean blush in the motion. The demon chewed meticulously before announcing with a huge smile:

“It actually doesn't taste bad” 

Jean thought his heart would drop him. This was starting to get really bad.


	3. Not so accidently in love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My computer's keyboard broke two weeks ago and it's with a brand new one that I present you the third chapter of this story. Sorry for the wait.

It had been almost a week now since Marco “moved in” with Jean. Even though he wasn't human, Jean treated him as his equal, always asking if he was he wasn't bored or hungry.  
Jean was very busy with his writing, not wanting to get late on his dead lines, so every time Marco did a funny/cute/awkward/clumsy thing, he rushed to his computer, filled with inspiration for his story.   
The writer's concentration ability amazed Marco. When he was working, he was forgetting everything around him and could be absorbed in researches and typing for hours. The demon usually used those times to wander around the house, trying to understand the use of every object, the sense of every word pronounced by the tv announcer or written in the newspaper or in Jean's impressive book collection. Because yes, Marco enjoyed reading stories; especially Jean's stories. There was an atmosphere to them, and a fantastic setting that the demon felt comfortable and passionate with. Incubi rarely had hobbies or activities out of feeding, but Marco wasn't like every demon. That's why he found himself fascinated by human culture. In Jean's house, he was like a child in a candy shop. He was so engrossed in his learning that when hunger struck him like a painful hit in the stomach, he was surprised.

But Marco didn't dare going to Jean for feeding, because he felt it was like using him, and Jean didn't deserve it. Jean was his savior, he was kind, he was handsome and caring and even though he had a bit of a short temper sometimes, he was a good person. So Marco didn't want to egoistically use him and tire him when the writer had so much work to do.  
Despite his vital need for food, despite his hunger, Marco was forcing back his instinct, going against his nature as a demon, all for the sake of Jean. He couldn't really explain how he felt towards the human writer, but what was certain was that he never felt so happy and sad at the same time before.   
He wanted Jean but not only his body; he wanted his whole and he also wanted to give his everything to him.   
If necessary, he was even ready to starve to death for him.

 

–---------

 

Marco was quietly watching one of his new favourite series when the front door loudly opened to reveal a short-breathed Jean, holding a crumbled magazine in his hands.  
The demon stood up, coming closer to the writer who was trying to steady his breathing. Jean's face was red from the cold and his running, and his hair was a mess. But to Marco's golden eyes, he looked perfect. And he didn't mind missing the end of Ned Stark's trial if he could be with his benefactor.

“Are you okay Jean?” The demon asked with a smile, slightly amused. His writer could be so intense sometimes, it was thrilling.

“Yes” Jean huffed, his breathing slowly coming back to normal. “Armin said that in this magazine there is a review of the first chapter I wrote.” he continued, offering said magazine to Marco.

The demon accepted the magazine and started skimming through it in search of said review.

“When you find it, read it out loud please, I didn't dare going through it.” Jean suddenly said, nervously playing with his unoccupied hands.

After finding the appropriate page, Marco complied, touched Jean entrusted him this important task:

“Jean Kirstein, the outrageously talented young writer of the best selling novel The Reluctant heroes surprises us with a new fresh and daring comedy: Marco the clumsy incubus. The story follows Marco, a young demon who struggles with being an incubus; a demon of lust. The first chapter, full of clever twists and intelligent references left us with a need for more. But like everyone, we will have to wait for next week's issue of Trost's times to know if the second chapter will be up to it.” Marco read with a clear voice. “And it's signed Petra Ral.” The demon added, eyes looking up to Jean, only to be greeted by the happiest expression he ever saw on the writer's face.

Jean's eyes were positively sparkling. A huge smile adorned his face as he started jumping in place, shouting.

“Yes, yes they liked it! Of course they liked it!”

Yes, sometimes Jean really was intense.  
Marco watched him affectionately before he was suddenly pulled into a tight embrace. He let the magazine fall to the floor as Jean calmed down and nuzzled his face against Marco's neck. His touch felt warm and good on Marco's skin. It felt like it had been so long since they last touched each other.

“And that's all thanks to you” the writer softly whispered. “You're like my muse, my inspiration” he breathed, lips brushing against Marco's ear.

The demon's skin shivered, and his chest filled with butterflies. He felt like he was going to die, but he was strangely happy about it. Maybe he was about to die of happiness.  
But he had to endure more of those nerve wrecking feelings as Jean moved to look him in the eyes, brown melting into gold.

The writer's mind was racing. He knew he loved Marco; he wanted him body and soul (even if it was possible that demons had no souls). He needed to spend his days by his sides, and right know, he wanted to make love to him. But he was still afraid. Afraid Marco was just staying with him out of some sort of pity or extreme kindness. Afraid the demon would let him use his body out of need and not of love. Afraid he was hopelessly in love with a creature who couldn't return his feelings and who was inevitably bound to leaving him.  
So Jean tightened his arms around Marco's slender waist, his eyes searching into the golden infinity of the demon's one for an answer.

And when those eyes closed, Jean got the message. He understood that they both wanted the same thing.   
And when those soft lips met his in a tender but not lust-less kiss, it was clear to him that it wasn't just carnal desire. So Jean slowly broke the kiss, took Marco's pale hand in his with a warm but a bit shy smile and led him to the bedroom.

They fell into the bed together, and there was no fear in Marco's eyes as Jean started exploring his body; no interrogation for the demon about his skills in bed, and no shame in the writer's actions. Marco was with Jean and Jean with Marco, so everything was going to be okay, fine, just perfect.  
And so that morning, in the soft light of an autumn morning, they finally became one.

 

–--------

 

Marco lazily stretched, untangling his limbs from the messy covers. Outside the sun was slowly setting. The demon quietly turned to amorously look at his lover. Jean was fast asleep, his face peacefully resting on his pillow, drooling slightly. Marco smiled, almost letting out a small laugh.   
The demon's hand went to stroke Jean's tawny hair. He would never have imagined, never hoped, a week ago, in the despair of his uselessness, that he would one day experience such contentment.

They had spent the whole afternoon and evening in bed, exploring, discovering each others bodies in a sensual dance. Or more like sensual dances... many many sensual dances.  
Thinking about it almost made Marco giggle; it had felt so good that he was already ready to go for another round. But he couldn't be selfish, he had to let Jean rest. And besides, his stomach was feeling full; he had eaten his fill!

As much as Marco wanted to stay by Jean's side, he was feeling so full of energy that he needed to do something with himself. He then got up to spend his overflowing energy.

 

–---------

 

The following morning, Jean was woken up by the nice smell of coffee. He slowly opened his still sleep filled eyes to find a tray on his bedside table. He examined its contents: a glass of what looked like orange juice, toasted bread with perfectly scrambled eggs and a nice steaming mug of black coffee.  
The writer took the mug, brought it to his lips and tentatively took a sip. The warmth of the coffee filled him, chasing the remains of sleep from his body.  
He then placed the mug back on the tray, wondering if he should try the eggs. After all, if the cook was the one he suspected, he feared the food could be dangerous.

“Go on, I made it with the help of a youtube video so it should be okay.”

Jean turned startled by Marco's voice. The young demon was sitting on his deckchair, in all his naked glory.  
The writer took the tray on his laps and slowly took a bite of eggs.

“It's good. Thanks.” Jean smiled after swallowing.

He resumed his eating and the room fell into a comfortable silence. 

“Are you okay Marco?” Jean suddenly asked after finishing his plate “I mean, I didn't really go easy on you last night, even though you seemed to enjoy it a lot.” 

“Yes, I'm fine, thanks for your consideration.” Marco answered, blushing a little. “Yesterday, it was great.” He added softly, his golden eyes meeting Jean's.

Jean grinned:

“Yeah I know, I was amazing, and you weren't so bad.” He jokingly bragged to hide his embarrass and happiness “We can do it again whenever you want” He then added with a cocky eyebrow movement.

Marco smiled but didn't have time to answer Jean's flirting, for two loud knocks were heard, coming from the front door. The fun would have to wait.

Jean got up, muttering to himself and went to his closet to put a t-shirt and pants on before going down the stairs. Upon leaving the room he still took time to wink at his demon lover.

The writer opened the door, only to find Eren's angry green eyes. He immediately shut back the door and prepared to climb back up.

“Oi Jean bastard, open the f****** door! You had a meeting with us one hour ago, how dare you not show up! I'm gonna rip your horseface!” Eren's yell was heard from the other side of the wooden door.

Jean froze. He had been so busy with consuming his love with Marco and floating on a little cloud of happy domestic life that he had forgotten about this meeting. Armin was supposed to proofread the second chapter of his story this morning. The blond was going to kill him. His editor was a serious and calm person, but when he was truly angry, he was a demon. And Jean didn't need to deal with a demon other than his angelic Marco.  
So Jean forced himself to open the door for Eren, quickly closing it behind him. His editor's friend entered grumbling about how stupid Jean was, which the writer tried to ignore as he poured Eren a coffee. 

Sitting at the central table, Jean couldn't help but notice that even though Marco made him breakfast, the kitchen was spotless, perfectly cleaned. He smiled at the though of his adorable incubus concentrating on cooking.

“Hey horseface, are you listening to me?” Eren asked, irritated

Luckily, Jean took one thing from his mom, it was his ability to listen while thinking about something else. So he calmed Eren, explaining him that yes he heard him when he said that Armin had to go back to work and so he sent him to lecture Jean.   
Eren worked night-shifts at a bar, so he was free in the daytime.

To the writer's surprise, Eren then calmly sipped his coffee while coldly staring at him, instead of shouting at him in Armin's place. He was impressed. Just a bit impressed. So when his guest asked to read the second chapter, Jean docilely complied.  
The writer was even more surprised when Eren started very constructively reviewing his work. He listened quietly to the brunette, mentally taking notes. This was the most mature and calm time they ever shared; no shouting, no insults, it almost made Jean sick. But despite his discomfort, the unusual atmosphere made him ask something daring: he asked more about Eren's dreams.

At first, the brunette was a bit on the defensive, afraid that Jean was trying to make fun of him. But after some efforts and a few well-chosen words, Eren finally explained his situation: how every night when he slept he was “visited” by a short but handsome raven-haired man in vividly realist wet dreams.

“I even feel sore in the morning, like really sore. Everywhere. and I had hickeys too” Eren exclaimed “It's pleasant you know, but it's really tiring. It feels so real, I can't convince myself it's false, I feel like I'm going crazy!”

The brunette took his head in his hands, whining. Jean was touched by his distress. He decided he was going to consult Marco about it as soon as he would leave. But for the moment, he couldn't help Eren, he didn't dare telling him about his own incubus experience.

 

\----------

 

Jaeger left a few minutes ago. He had received a call from his boss telling him he was needed for a lunch shift, as one of his coworkers was sick.

Jean sighed upon closing the door. 

“Your friend is in trouble”

Jean jumped. Marco always surprised him, his movements were too quiet and discreet. And he really didn't get used to the invisibility ability.   
The demon was displaying a stern face

“If an incubus visits a human every single night, they will slowly drain their vital force. Your friend looked pale, and he had dark rings under his eyes; I'm worried the incubus will tire him to death.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read so many great Jean/Marco fanfictions lately that I felt a bit disapointed with my own one, my writing is not really good... But still, I like this story and I will finish it; I'll give it my best.
> 
> Thanks for reading ! :)


	4. Flying high and crashing low

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the longer chapter so far and with new characters!  
> Sorry for the wait (if there are still people reading this out there), but my studies are killing me.

Jean was dreaming. Or at least he thought he was dreaming. He was in this semi-conscious state that people sometimes experience when feverish; swinging between sleep and awakening; not able to tell if what they saw or felt was real or not. It was like being delirious.

But this experience wasn't unpleasant. In fact, the writer was certainly in a state of trance that made him unable to move, but he was also receiving the best blowjob Marco ever gave him. And it was far too real to be a dream. It was just a shame that, for reason he didn't understand, he couldn't open his eyes to admire the scene taking place between his legs.

The writer sighed, letting himself go, relaxing. But he suddenly tensed when he felt something soft on his thighs. Two things actually; things that didn't belong on a man's body.

His alarmed mind screamed for him to properly wake up, and so he found the force to finally move, overcoming the supernatural force bewitching him to push the stranger away from his intimate parts before steadying himself in a sitting position.  
And when Jean looked in front of him, in the darkness he only saw two shining golden eyes. But unlike Marco's, they were cold and piercing. The writer felt like he was trapped by this stare; like a prey too afraid to move in front of its predator, hoping his life would be spared.  
He was shaking, he wanted to scream for help, for he didn't want this female creature to touch him.

Jean's prayers were soon heard, his savior taking the form of Marco who abruptly turned on the lights upon entering the room, the sudden burst of light blinding the writer.

“Jean are you okay? Sorry I left for a bit but I wanted to watch the replay of the Game of Thrones episode I missed the other d-” 

Marco froze.

It had been weeks since he last saw one of his congeners. Still, he recognized the succubus sitting on the bed, shamelessly naked. She was one of the most talented at incubus school and a very powerful demon. Marco's former self would never have dared interrupting her meal; and if he had by mistake, he would have fled without a second thought. But now everything was different. What he had with Jean was special, and he wouldn't let any other demon spoil it. Plus, seeing Jean's anxious face, he didn't seem really willing to be the succubus' dinner.

“Marco, I didn't expect to see you here. Or to see you alive again.” 

The female's cold voice made the poor demon shiver. But he gathered his courage in an attempt to chase her out.

“Mikasa, this is my territory, you can't stay here!” Marco exclaimed “Plus, Jean doesn't like women.” he then mumbled

The raven-haired beauty raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“If he likes men or women doesn't matter.” Mikasa answered while getting up. That's how good she was Marco thought “And if you claim this place as your territory, you know that you'll have to fight for it.” She said, her voice icing and her lips forming a small but menacing smile, revealing sharp fangs.

Marco backed away. He didn't want to fight her. He never had a belligerent temper and he knew that he was no match for her. He hated it, but her intimidation was enough to make him want to submit to her; it was a conservation instinct he couldn't fight. He felt so frustrated.

The incubus felt tears threatening to leave his eyes, when his blurred vision was quickly blocked by Jean's shirtless back.  
The writer had interposed between the two demons. He was now facing the succubus, a faint blush tainting his cheeks as he tried not to look to her naked body. Honestly, he couldn't deny she was a goddess. Her ivory skin was spotless, and her silhouette worthy of the mount Olympe. Her waist was slim and she was fit but not without curves. But the most beautiful part of her was her face: her eyes were cold but big and adorned with long and thick black eyelashes. Her hair looked like silk and her mouth seemed to have a naturally red color.  
All this beauty made Jean a lot more uncomfortable than aroused. He took a deep breath before addressing this gorgeous but scary creature:

“Um, Marco's right, he lives here now, so here he stays.” Jean awkwardly started, his voice trembling a little “And you leave! Please.” he quickly added “Your services are not required” He finished just as awkwardly.

The succubus frowned a bit before sighing.

“I guess I have no choice then, I'll leave you two alone.” Her voice seemed a bit warmer, maybe even amused  
She slowly walked towards the bedroom's window, with a slight swing of her hips and tail. There was no doubt she would have no trouble finding another prey before dawn.

“But I warn you Marco, humans are not supposed to know we exist and we are also not supposed to always feed of the same human. You know it, if the higher ups hear about that, both of you will be in big trouble.” 

And with that, she disappeared.

 

\----------

 

After recovering from this late night encounter, Jean and Marco cuddled in bed, both reassured by the presence of the other. Jean didn't stop apologizing, telling Marco he loved him and he didn't want any other one than him, begging him to trust him. And of course Marco did. He didn't need those words but he understood that Jean had been shocked and alarmed by the raven-haired succubus. He knew Mikasa's visit wasn't Jean fault, and he knew from the warmth of the writer's embrace, the shakiness of his voice and the tender shyness of his touches that he had eyes only for him. It was an amazing feeling to be desired; it made the demon proud. But still, to prevent other events like this, to protect Jean's rest, from now on he would stay with Jean while he slept.

Marco slowly stroked Jean's hair, in a soothing motion. As the writer started to fall asleep, little by little, the demon remembered Mikasa's words. He didn't want Jean to be hurt because of him; demons were usually not really merciful, especially not the current incubus community leader. He hoped everything would go well for them.

 

\----------

As traumatizing as his previous night was, it made good writing material for the rest of his story. Indeed, a story without secondary characters wasn't a decent story; and as much as Jean loved writing about his adorable Marco, he had to enrich his plot.

With these new ideas in mind, Jean got down to work as soon as he got up the following day.  
Marco, from his part, tried to occupy himself without breaking Jean's concentration. He was presently making coffee for his human housemate; a little reward to encourage his hard work.  
As the demon meticulously prepared the black beverage, his eyes diverted to window. It was a beautiful day. The pale sun of November was shining radiantly, but still not strongly enough to warm up the cold atmosphere. Marco suddenly realized he had never explored the outside world at daytime, for he was always hiding in dark corners from humans and other incubi. The demon loved Jean and his house; he had never felt so comfortable in his whole life and had never hoped of a more peaceful existence.  
But the more you have, the more you want, and Marco found himself wishing he could discover more of the world outside this safe house. He wished he could go shopping with Jean, go to the restaurant, the amusement park, take casual strolls in parks and all the other little things he knew humans did. He even dared wishing he could meet Jean's friend, so he could know every part, every detail of Jean's life. He wanted to follow Jean everywhere. He knew it was selfish and most importantly, he knew that it was just impossible. 

These polluting thoughts started tainting Marco's bright daily life with a duller shade.

 

\----------

 

Kissing noises were breaking the silence of Jean's bedroom. The atmosphere was hot and heavy in the pale light of the moon.  
Jean was sitting on Marco's hips, gently caressing his freckled torso while sloppily kissing him; relishing in his lover's soft moaning.  
But upon attacking Marco's neck with his hungry lips, Jean suddenly stopped. The writer's hand came to rest on Marco's cheek as his head snuggled near the demon's ear.

“What's wrong” He asked in a whispered

Marco let out a breathy “what?”

“There's something on your mind isn't it?” Jean added, slowly straightening his back up.

Marco raised on his elbows with a blush. Jean didn't look like it but he was actually very caring and attentive. The demon felt ashamed that he was so easy to read. He was never good at hiding his emotions. Everything he felt could be read on his face; or even just his eyes. And Jean had quickly noticed it.  
The writer explained his lover that he noticed he seemed a bit down lately, and he was afraid he was neglecting his cute incubus, for he spent so much time working lately.

“No!” The demon quickly reassured him “It's just...” 

Marco hesitated. He felt bad for being so selfish. But at the same time, he knew that what he wanted would surely please Jean too. So finally he took the plunge:

“I want to go outside with you!” He blurted out.

Jean's eyes grew wide. His expression then transformed from surprise to concentration as he started stroking his chin.

“Hmm, I understand you would get bored just staying here, and I'd like to go out with you too.” Jean started. “But your appearance will make things a bit complicated... I'm afraid you'll have no choice but to wear clothes.” He added in faked concern.

Marco's eyes seemed to sparkle, his face lighting up: “So it's a yes?”

Jean grinned while vigorously nodding his head. Marco jumped on his human lover, overwhelming with joy. He hugged him tightly and drowning him in kisses and thanks. The writer laughed softly, gently patting the demon's back. He then met his golden eyes with a smug look.

“Now, shall we resume our previous activities?”

 

\----------

 

The following morning, Jean was rummaging through his wardrobe bright and early. The prospect of a day out with Marco was thrilling, and he wanted his demon lover to look good. But Jean's wardrobe was far from extensive and Marco was a bit taller than him, making the task complicated.

However, Jean's efforts were rewarded when he was met with the sight of Marco's bottom in tight black jeans. The demon was also wearing an old Christmas jumper that Jean's mother had once knitted him. It was the only top that suited Marco and his long arms; even thought it was a bit large around the chest.

“It feels so strange to wear clothes. But how do I look?” Marco asked, blushing shyly

Jean wanted to answer that he looked gorgeous/perfect/let's get ride of those clothes, but he contented himself with a simple “good”.  
The writer then handed the incubus a large jacket with fake fur on the hood and a pair of sunglasses.

“No human has golden eyes like you do, so you have to wear these to hide them. And since you're not supposed to wear sunglasses in winter, we'll pretend you're blind.” He explained

 

\----------

 

Jean was quiet proud of himself. Pretending Marco was blind so they could got out together without trouble was a brilliant idea. Like this, he could hold the demon's hand without attracting mean looks from the passerby.

The streets were calm in the end of this November's morning. The cold was still bearable and the sun was shyly turning up from behind the clouds. Marco was clutching Jean's hand as his head kept turning from left to right, not knowing where to look. The young demon kept asking Jean about the shops, the houses, the people; Jean had hardly enough time to answer a question that another one came. The writer still answered each question as best as he could, laughing softly; Marco was really making a very unconvincing blind.

The two men continued their tour of the huge town that was Trost for hours, exploring every districts, from the poorest to the most beautifully expensive ones. And Marco never lost interest, eager to learn more about the human world. They didn't even stop for lunch. After all, Marco didn't need to eat and the incubus seemed so happy to wander over the town hand in hand with Jean that the writer couldn't bring himself to ask for a break. Around 6 o'clock, Jean started to feel a bit faint; his feet were aching, his back too and his mouth was starting to feel dry from the incessant talking with Marco. At that moment, even Marco's cuteness and the warmth of his hand weren't enough to keep him going. So the writer led them to a small café to take a break before they started heading back to his place, which sadly was at the other side of the town. Jean whined a bit at the though.

Still wearing his sunglasses, Marco sat a bit too easily for a blind person on his chair but Jean didn't pick it out; he was too tired for that. The writer ordered two coffees and was surprised when Marco started actually drinking his.

“You don't have to force yourself if you don't like it.”

The demon raised his head to look at him. Such a shame Jean couldn't see his eyes to fully grasp the demon's actual expression.

“I've tried it a few times at your place and I'm actually starting to like it, this coffee thing. Although it's a bit bitter.”

Jean smiled, taking the sugar bowl from the center of the table and pouring some into Marco's dark beverage. 

“Here, it should taste sweeter with sugar in it”

Marco gave a suspicious look at his cup, but decided to trust Jean, slowly dipping his lips into the black liquid.

“It's really good like this!” The demon exclaimed, quickly raising his head “Thank you Jean, what would I do without you!”

Marco's huge smile made Jean melt. Sure the demon was probably exaggerating a bit, but those kind words still got to him.  
Since he met Marco, Jean felt like he had improved as a person. He was feeling less grumpy, he was studious in his work and he had proved himself that he could live smoothly with another human being. Or more like just another being. Anyway, his mom would be proud. She would probably also be proud to know her son had found himself such a charming boyfriend.  
The writer was suddenly assaulted by a sad thought. Marco was a demon, and Jean would never be able to properly live with him, or introduce him to his friends and family.

“Do you think we could go out like this again?” Marco slowly asked while casually sipping his coffee

Jean snapped out of his thoughts. As much as he would be happy to get out again with his beloved demon, the realization that their relationship was impossible in the long term and was probably going to bring more hurt to both of them than happiness made him feel gloomy. But he didn't want to ruin Marco's day with his worries. So the writer forced a smile to his lips.

“Yeah, of course!”

\-----------

When the night came obscuring the sky, Jean was happy to be able to relax in his bed after this long day. But his interrogations about his future with Marco kept him awake until dawn. Of course the demon realized Jean wasn't acting as usual, he was even afraid it was his fault. But even though his worries for his human lover were making him feel sick, he didn't dare asking him what was wrong. 

Jean was lazily drawing circles on Marco's back which he was facing. The writer relieved in the comfort of the demon's presence. His warm body, his innumerable freckles, his soft hair; Jean felt like he couldn't live without Marco anymore, it would be like losing a part of himself. But still, they couldn't continue like that, Jean wanted more, but he knew they would never be able to live together normally like he wished they could. He also knew he had to talk to Marco about it; the silence between them was becoming unbearable, and the demon seemed like he wasn't going to express himself first.

Jean tried to muster his courage and opened his mouth to speak. However, he was cut short as a deep growl was heard in the room. Marco got up swiftly, a shiver running down his spine.

The atmosphere of the bedroom became unsafe, disturbing and in the dark, red eyes were glowing, menacing. Jean felt afraid, more than when Mikasa had been there, but still it was the same kind of angst that was creeping through him; that's how he knew another incubus had appeared. The writer then realized Marco was trembling like a leaf beside him. It only added to his anxiety. Still, in a surge of courage, he took Marco's hand in his, trying to be reassuring, making the demon know he was there.

A snap of fingers was heard and the lights of the room turned on blinding Jean. The writer blinked furiously, trying to get adjusted to the sudden luminosity. But even after seeing the red-eyed creature that had invited itself in his bedroom, he continued blinking, for he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

In front of him stood a very naked and very short raven-haired man. If it hadn't been for his dangerous red eyes and cold disproving frown, Jean would have laughed at his appearance. But the writer felt this creature wasn't anybody.

“Marco” The young freckled demon squeaked, straightening up at the icing voice of the incubi's leader: Rivaille, the most powerful incubus there had ever been.  
“Until now I closed my eyes on your acts since if I hadn't, you would probably be dead right now.” Rivaille continued, in a disapproving tone. “But today you went against all our rules and go out, moreover in the daylight with this human piece of shit!”

Jean cringed at the insult.

“I'm sorry sir, it wont happen again, I promise, but please, please let me stay with Jean!” Marco begged, eyes teary.

The writer studied the crimson-eyed demons expression as he seemed to be deep in thoughts, probably pondering on the risk this request brought for his whole specie and for Marco alone on the other side.  
Usually Jean would have given a piece of his mind to this midget, telling him to let his cute Marco alone, but he pushed away his short temper and let Marco handle this for now merely observing. After all, he knew nothing about the incubi's customs and to be honest, he felt completely overwhelmed by this demon stories. All he wanted was to live peacefully with Marco.

Rivaille suddenly looked up to the couple, seeming to have made up his mind.

“Fine, you can stay in this shithole and feed of this human trash. But if you go out during the day again, or if another human being ever sees you, it's all over and there will be punitive measures.” 

Rivaille then glanced at the window and then back at Marco.

“I suggest you turn invisible, it seems like your human is having visitors.” 

And with a warning glare, the incubi's strongest disappeared. A few seconds later, two loud knocks came from the front door.

It was very hard for Jean to go get the door after these events. The writer was tired, his muscles aching from too much walking the previous day and not enough sleep. His interrogations about his relationship with Marco and the almost certain knowledge of who was waiting behind the door put him in a really depressed mood.

With no surprise, Armin was standing on the doorstep. But he was also accompanied by a very ill-looking Eren. Seriously, Jean almost jumped upon seeing the brunette. He was pale like a ghost and the purple circles around his eyes were almost going down past his nose. The writer felt scared and concerned at the same time. He was about to ask Eren if he was okay when the brunette suddenly let out a high pitched yelp.

“Something groped my ass!!” He exclaimed, gripping his bottom and turning around to look for his aggressor in panic.

Armin sighed, exasperated

“Nothing touched you Eren, there's nothing here! Seriously, you're starting to worry me, maybe you should see a doctor.” 

Both men stepped in, Jean watching them, more and more concerned. He swore he had felt a presence walk past him when he had opened the door, but at the moment, he had shrugged it off. But his doubts were confirmed when he heard Eren lowly whisper:

“I'm sure it was him, it felt like his touch.”

But the writer didn't have time to think about Eren's well being, for he was verbally attacked by an apparently very upset Armin. 

“Jean, why can it never be simple with you?” Armin asked with a sigh. “You know why we are here don't you?”

The writer racked his brain the shook his head. His reaction was met with another distraught sigh.

“You were supposed to bring me the last chapter of your story yesterday and instead, Eren saw you being all lovely-dovely with a blind guy in a café!” Armin burst “I called you, texted you countless times these days to remind you about your deadline but...”

Armin's words stopped reaching Jean's brain as he realized he had completely forgotten his work for a few days. He didn't even know were his phone was. It wasn't the first time since he met Marco that he lost his ties to reality, to work, to his friends. His mind had been full of the sweet incubus; how to please him, how to find a way to live with him normally... He feared, they couldn't continue like that. Jean just couldn't juggle with his human life and his demon lover, it would drive him insane. He wanted Marco to be part of his world, but the demon could never simply live amongst humans. So what should he do? He couldn't live Marco; it would be like killing him, like killing both of them. He had to make a choice; he had to renounce to some aspects of his life so he could make room for change. But he didn't know how.

“Jean, are you listening to me?”

Armin's voice didn't reach Jean as the writer felt his throat tighten and tears started falling down his cheeks.

 

\-----------

 

Armin had left in a hurry after Eren had started feeling faint, almost collapsing in Jean's living room. But the blond had made Jean promise he would finish his story for the following morning.

The writer was in no mood to write. He just wanted to go to sleep and be left alone. 

“Are you okay Jean?”

Marco was standing in the stairs, looking as tired as his human lover.  
The writer sighed. Of course Marco knew that Jean wasn't okay, and Jean saw that Marco was worried about him. And so during the rest of the day, they settled down in an uncomfortable silence; a heavy and gloomy atmosphere. They both knew they should talk about their common problems, but they didn't; they preferred hiding, even if it was obvious that it would never solve anything. They didn't even make the most of their present time together.  
Jean threw himself in the last chapter of his story; if he couldn't see how Marco and him could get a happy ending, he would at least give “Marco the clumsy incubus” a good one. Meanwhile, Marco sat on one of the kitchen chairs, immobile for hours. The demon, who was always so keen on watching tv or reading didn't have the heart to do anything even though he should be overjoyed; after all, he had permission to stay with his loved one. But it wasn't enough, he wanted more, he wanted a human life, and it made him feel so selfish.  
The more Marco thought about it, the more he remembered Jean's tired face, the more he wondered if popping up into Jean's life had really been a good thing for both of them.  
What they felt for each other was strong and radiant and perfect, but their love seemed impossible in the long term. Even if their hearts were beating in unison, even if their encounter was probably the best thing that ever happened to each one of them, their wolds were just too different.


	5. Metamorphosis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I give you chapter five people, which is kind of short, sorry...  
> Next chapter will be the last before the epilogue so yeah, we are getting close to the end!

Jean cried like a child when he typed the final point of his story. He didn't try to hold back his tears. He was sad and frustrated at the same time. He now felt disgusted by what he had first wrote with all his heart.  
This last chapter was nauseously sweet and sappy. In the Marco the incubus finally found a family to live with and was destined to live a peaceful life amongst humans. Exactly what the real Marco would never be able to get. Exactly what Jean could never offer him.

The story was over and it felt like a part of his life ought to end too.

He felt exhausted. He wanted Marco to take him in his arms, and to stay with him forever, out of time, out of the futile worries of life.  
The writer whipped his eyes with the back of his hand and took a deep breath.  
When he turned back in his desk-chair, he didn't find the young demon who was usually waiting for him to finish, patiently sitting on the bed.   
The writer buried his face in his hands and growled. Marco probably got bored of waiting for him. 

He then found the courage to get up and started calling Marco repeatedly. Worry slowly crawling into him when no answer came.

Jean rushed down the stairs, his heart racing, panic striking him. What if Marco wasn't there, what if he had left?

_Of course he left idiot, what can you give him? You can't make him happy anyway._

The writer then stopped, slowly pulling himself together as he met in the moonlight the appeasing sight of Marco's figure. His arms were folded on the kitchen table, his head resting on them, his eyes closed, asleep.

Jean almost smiled before a thought struck him. Marco was a demon, he wasn't supposed to sleep. 

The feeling that something was wrong started to fill the writer. He hastily approached the young demon and gently shook his shoulders, asking him if he was okay.  
Marco emitted a small whimpering noise and opened his eyes with difficulty, Jean's name slowly escaping his lips. Marco's voice was weak and raw. His eyes had lost their glow, their golden color now drawing to a pale and dull yellow.  
Jean's grip tightened on Marco's arm and he too easily felt the demon's bone under his fingers. The writer's stomach dropped. He had been neglecting his lover's vital needs, and now the demon must be starving to death.  
Jean started to shake with anger and sadness. He felt so helpless in front of this situation that confirmed him their relationship wasn't meant to be.

_You can't make him happy_

Marco's eyes started to close again when Jean felt a shiver run down his spine, a familiar presence overbrimming the room.  
His arms still holding Marco, Jean gazed up to meet Rivaille's red eyes. The incubus's gaze was less angry than when Jean first met him. He could even say he looked a little sad.

“What's happening to him?” The writer asked weakly, even though he didn't want to hear the answer.

“He's dying. Of hunger.” Rivaille gravely answered.

The incubi's leader came closer to Jean, looking at Marco with what seemed like concern. He then sighed as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“To be at his full power, an incubus needs to spend his whole nights feeding. And to just survive, they need to feed at strict minimum 4 hours per night.” The red eyed demon started explaining. “You obviously can't keep up with it.” He added, contemptuous.

Jean gasped. He found it hard to find his breath. Marco never told him about that. The thought that the incubus had let himself waste away to let Jean work, or do whatever insignificant things he was doing instead of being with him was killing him inside. He was angry at himself and at the same time angry at Marco who didn't even voice his hunger.

Tears started rolling down Jean's cheeks as a litany of excuses left his lips in a sob.   
At the soft caress of Jean's hand on his hair and the wetness of his tears on his shoulder, Marco weakly opened his eyes again, their color now almost gray.

“Jean, it's not your fault.” The freckled demon lowly whispered. “I neglected my health for you, but mostly for me. I didn't want to be depending on you like this; I didn't want to be a demon anymore.”  
He then looked up to meet Rivaille's pitying gaze. “I wanted to be human.”

Indeed, Marco had ignored his needs as a demon, refuting what he truly was, for he knew he couldn't peacefully live with Jean in his actual form.  
Jean held back another sob as he turned to Rivaille too.

“Can't you do something about it, or are you just here to laugh at us?!”

Rivaille glared down at Jean, his frown deepening.

“I'm here to prevent one of my kind from dying. As much as he is an idiot, Marco is one of my congeners and also my responsibility as a leader.” Rivaille averted his red eyes from Jean before he continued “Marco should just forget you and move on, you obviously can't continue living like this. You should forget him too, humans and demons aren't supposed to be together, it's against nature.”

Jean lowered his head. It was no use getting worked up other this guy, he knew it. But deep inside of him, he couldn't help being angry at him.

“You say that when you keep visiting Eren only every single night!” Jean shouted letting his pain turn into rage

Rivaille's eyes widened for a split second before dangerously narrowing again.  
Jean seeing he had stoke the right chord continued:

“Yes, I know about that! So because you're the leader you can do whatever you want? Well because of you Eren is slowly wasting away, just like Marco!” He spat.

Rivaille let out a guttural and menacing growl. He didn't appreciate being talked back like this by a mere human. Still, he couldn't deny the fact that he was going against the rules when visiting only his adorable Eren. Since he started feeding on him, he had lost taste for every other humans.  
Of course he knew it was bad for his brunette's health, but if he wanted to stay the strongest, he had to feed every night. And God (or maybe more Satan) knew how many rivals he had to keep at bay.

But watching the couple in front of him, Rivaille was assaulted by a sentiment he never experienced: empathy. The way Jean clung desperately to Marco's visibly paling figure was … touching, he had to admit it. Since he knew Eren, he had started to realize that humans weren't just dumb living food; they had feelings demons may or may not be able to understand and had a certain charm. Although Rivaille didn't see what Marco found in this particular human, he could understand why he was envious of his life; him who couldn't do his job as an incubus properly.

“Maybe there is something I can do for you two.” He finally stated, letting those unusual feelings take the lead.

Marco smiled weakly and Jean's face lightened at those words.

“Hange” Rivaille called loudly.

A few seconds later, a naked brown-haired succubus appeared from nowhere, her golden eyes shining behind glasses that she was probably wearing for style, for demon weren't supposed to have bad eyesight.

“Yo!” The brunette exclaimed. She then inquisitively looked at Jean and Marco, interest sparkling in her eyes.

Rivaille pointed towards the succubus named Hange. “This air-head is Hange. She sucks at seduction but she has inherited strange metamorphose powers.” He then turned to the brunette “Maybe you can do something for these two.”

Hange searched Rivaille's face, not really understanding what he meant. Suddenly her eyes widened and she jumped on the raven-haired demon, squeezing him against his will. 

“Oh thank you for this occasion Rivaille, that's going to be awesome!”

Jean was lost and baffled. He tried to understand the situation as he watched Rivaille push away Hange. Did they communicate by telepathy or something? Because he didn't have a single clue of what those two weird demons were planning.  
The writer was dragged out of his thoughts when Marco's hand circled his wrist. The young demon put all his energy in this slight movement and struggled to talk:

“Hange, what are you planning to do?” he asked anxiously.

The succubus turned to him with a huge grin

“My little Marco, I'll turn you into a human!”

Jean and Marco's eyes simultaneously widened, their mouth falling, like fishes out of the water. They looked at each other and then back at Hange, speechless.

“Really?” Marco finally asked, weakly, as Jean asked if it really was possible (while avoiding asking why they never suggested this option sooner).

“I never tried such a huge and long term transformation but I think I can do this.” Hange said, rolling up fake sleeves.

“What kind of transformations do you usually carry out?” Jean asked, worried.

Hange looked back at him “Oh, simple metamorphoses: cats into dogs, mouses into elephants and vice versa... Princes into frogs.” She winked “Just joking for the princes, but I like, you know, changes that bring a little bit of mess.”

Suddenly Jean wasn't so sure he wanted this maniac sort of witch to experiment her dubious powers on the poor Marco. But it seemed like they had no other choice but to trust her if they wanted to be together.  
The writer asked Marco if he was okay with it, to which the demon nodded with the tiniest of smiles. They had to be quick about this, the young incubus was growing weaker and weaker by the minute. 

Hange gently pushed Jean away from Marco, letting him just enough time to kiss the demon on the lips and whisper he loved him with all the tenderness and sincerity he had.  
The brown-haired succubus held Marco's cheeks between her hands and touched her forehead to his. Her golden eyes met his fading gray ones.

“Are you sure you want this? I can't guarantee it will work, and if it works, I don't know how you're gonna feel.” She gently whispered so that Jean wouldn't hear.

Marco nodded, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. His lips came closer to Hange's ears: “If it fails, make Jean forget about me … please.”  
Hange smiled at him, giving a small nod. Marco faintly smiled back, too weak to beam one of his radiant smiles. Hange may be a bit special but he trusted her; if this magic trick happened to fail, he believed she would keep her word and put Jean out of his misery by making him forget all about him; all about them.

Marco closed his eyes as Hange stepped back a little, closing her eyes in concentration. The young incubus prayed that this would work with all the little energy he had left and all the love he had for his human writer.

A strong light emitted from the two demons and blinded Jean. When the writer's vision cleared, the chair where Marco had been sitting was empty.   
Jean's throat tightened, letting out a strangled scream. And then, everything turned black.

 

\----------

 

Jean's alarm clock let out an angry beeping sound, pulling the young writer out of his sleep. Reluctantly he got out of bed and started his morning routine.  
The writer felt like shit. He was empty and he couldn't understand why, which made him even more angry and tired.

The writer lazily dragged himself to his kitchen hoping a full mug of coffee would help him feeling less miserable.  
A few minutes after sitting at his kitchen table coffee in hand, Jean's cellphone rang, scaring him and making him burn his tongue with the dark beverage. He cursed while checking who was calling.

It was Armin. Great. Just great. The blond was probably gonna tell him he should start working on a new series and not rest on his laurels.   
Jean sighed before hitting the green button of his phone.

“Hi Jean, I just just finished reviewing your last chapter, and I have to say it's really good. Your ending is nice and I'm sure it will please your readers.”

What chapter? What work? Jean was getting really confused, he didn't understand a thing as Armin started to ramble about how he was proud of him and stuff.   
Jean was completely lost. He knew he had a bad memory but not that bad! He couldn't have just forgotten something he wrote... Except if he had been drunk when he wrote it; which not an option giving his actual state of soberness and lack of hangover.

“Sorry, what story are we talking about again?” Jean interrupted Armin, running a hand through his hair nervously.

The other end of the line went silent before Armin answered with an uncomfortable laugh.

“Don't play dumb Jean, we're talking about 'Marco the clumsy incubus'”.

Incubus?

Marco?

Although Jean racked his mind it didn't ring a bell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the bad cliffhanger, but no worries, those two will get their happy ending.
> 
> Thanks to all the people who left kudos, I really appreciate it. Don't hesitate to leave a comment, it's always a pleasure knowing what people think. :)


	6. Together again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, very short chapter, but I hadn't much to put in it except the reunion of those two dorks.  
> There is still a short epilogue to go that I will post later.

Jean sighed, scratching the back of his head nervously. He had just finished reading what was supposed to be his story; this “Marco the clumsy incubus” thing.   
He couldn't believe he had been the one writing this sappy wannabe novel and he couldn't believe he didn't even remember writing it. But still, amongst the pages of comedy and fluff (he understood now why the novel was such a success with teenage girls) he could spot a few phrasings that were definitely his and characters seemed a little familiar too. But then again, how come he didn't remember writing this?!

Jean angrily closed his laptop and got up from his desk chair. He needed a coffee and he needed it now.  
The writer continued his deep reflections on whether he should see a doctor for his disturbing loss of memory or not while the coffee maker was gently purring and pouring exquisite dark liquid inside Jean's mug.  
Jean took hold of his mug once the coffee was done and stopped in his tracks when he spotted a human form sitting on the pavement opposite his window.  
True he had already seen this homeless guy last night when he came back from a meeting with Armin, but he had avoided his gaze, not wanting to be faced with the misery of this person. But now, taking a closer look at the man, he realized his face was... familiar; his face looked exactly like how he had portrayed the “Marco” character in “his” new novel. He had the brown hair parted in the middle, freckles on his cheeks and nose (“like a starry sky” was what his novel said) but instead of the golden eyes of a demon, he had deep and tired chocolate brown ones.  
Jean blinked a few times and averted his gaze, not wanting the man outside to notice his staring. He then tried to connect the dots: he had written a novel abut a homeless he saw outside his house being a demon. Great. He was now sure he had been at least a bit drunk when he had written this... Or he had a serious mental problem.

Still, Jean couldn't help but look back at the man on the pavement. He was so thin and he looked so cold and lost. He was draped into what seemed like an old green blanket. Jean was filled with pity. No, it wasn't just pity. He felt drawn to those chocolate eyes and this freckled face, attracted like a magnet; and before he knew it, he had put on a coat over his sleeping pants and shirt and was heading outside. That's only when he was in front of the homeless man that he realized he didn't know what to say or do. So he stood there like an idiot, starring at a mass of brown hair.  
Then chocolate eyes looked up to him and they widened, filling with surprise and then something like tenderness. It was a strange but beautiful mixture and Jean couldn't look away, still at loss of words. Why did this face feel so familiar?  
The two boys stared at each other for a few minutes, searching each others eyes for answers.

“Hum... I think you shouldn't stay here.” Jean finally blurted before mentally slapping himself.

_Good job Jean, telling a man who has probably no home that he can't stay here in the streets that aren't yours_

The man on the floor dropped his head low, biting his lower lip. The gesture gave Jean a pang.

“I'm sorry. But I don't know where I should go. I don't even know where I am. I was wondering the streets and my legs lead me here on their own. I'm sorry.”

The man's voice was so small and broken Jean felt guilty for his harsh words. But he was never good with words. Well except when it came to telling stories. The bony shoulders of the man under the blanket started to shake as tears rolled down freckled cheeks.  
Jean started to panic. He held his hands in front of him and shook them desperately.

“No, no please don't cry, I'm not here to chase you.” Jean exclaimed “I just thought you might be cold and... and why don't you come in my house to eat drink something warm?”

The words had gotten out before Jean had time to think them through. Usually he would never invite a stranger into his house. But this man seemed so miserable and not threatening at all and for a strange reason Jean wanted to help him; to protect him. He couldn't stand seeing him cry.

Deep brown eyes met amber ones again and the man sniffed before asking in a trembling voice.

“Are you sure this is okay?”

And before Jean could answer, the man's stomach grumbled loudly, making his ears blush a deep crimson shade.  
Cute. That's the only word Jean had to describe this homeless freckled angel.  
A little laugh escaped the writer's throat.

“Of course it's okay. And I think I can make us lunch too”

Jean then extended his hand towards the sitting figure, bending his knees a little. The man smiled at him, cheeks still wet from tears and nose red and runny. But to Jean it was the most beautiful smile ever. He didn't know why this smile felt so nostalgic, nor did he know why he felt so attracted to this stranger. But honestly, he didn't care.

The freckled fingers brushed his and suddenly Jean pulled away. The man let out a little yelp and it was like Jean had been electrocuted the second he touched him. His eyes shut closed and he gripped his head. It felt like his brain was going to explode as memories came flooding back. It was like a movie including himself playing in front of his eyelids: golden eyes, a black tail, eggs swimming in petrol, freckles, writing, a beautiful woman, a short angry man, a four-eyed weirdo and...

“Marco” he finally whispered, opening his eyes in awe.

And before he could move, he was assaulted by slender arm as Marco threw his arms around his neck, almost making him fall back on his butt. Marco let out a breathy “Jean”, nuzzling his head in the writer's neck before kissing him full on the lips. Jean kissed him back, running his hand on Marco's back. 

After a few minutes of holding each other and making sure this wasn't a dream, the two lovers retreated inside Jean's house to lazily sprawl on the couch of Jean's living room.

Jean was slowly caressing Marco's dark hair as the former demon hummed in content.  
Marco had explained that he woke up in a bush, in the garden of a house five blocks from here with no memories whatsoever. He had been panicked and stressed and afraid and he was completely naked and cold. So he had stolen a blanket from said house and had walked the streets aimlessly. But his legs had carried him in front of Jean's house out of instinct. He then had collapsed on the pavement, exhausted and with no idea about what to do. Jean then explained him how he lost his memories too. Probably a side effect of the strange magic of the incubus named Hange.

“Still, I can't believe the spell worked. Even if it wasn't what I'd call a frank success.” Jean breathed in Marco's ear “And I'm glad you were able to find me.”

Marco rested his hand on Jean's cheek and stroked with his thumb.

“You found me too. We found each other again.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying each others presence and recovering from the emotions of the past few days. Now they had all the time in the world. They could take their time, they had their all life before them. No incubus leader to bother them, no need for Marco to hide behind sunglasses to go out. Yes, Jean thought, they would go shopping, to the beach, to the mountain, to the amusement park. He wanted to show Marco the world he was so eager to see when he was a demon and as long as it was with Marco, Jean felt like he could go anywhere. He could be happy anywhere. But for now, they just needed the peace of each others presence in the comfortable warmth of his little house. The house where they met.

Suddenly a loud growl was heard coming from Marco's stomach. The two lovers looked at each other with wide eyes before bursting into laughter.

“I guess now that you're human I'll have to feed you too. But real food this time.” Jean said whipping a small tear from the corner of his eye and starting to get up to head to the kitchen.

“Yeah, but you know, I think I'll still need bedroom activities to satiate a different kind of hunger.” Marco answered playfully, a wicked smile adorning his lips.

Jean sat back in the couch blushing at the unexpected retort. It's only now that Marco was human that he got to see Marco's devilish side.  
A naughty grin on his lips too, Jean jumped on Marco. 

Breakfast would have to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the people who followed this story. I'm aware it wasn't that good and the writing could be improved, but I hope you enjoyed reading none the less, as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
> See you for the epilogue!


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very very very very short epilogue because there weren't much things I had left to tell for this story, except for what happened to Eren mostly.  
> I've always been a bit too concise when it comes to telling stories...

Snow was littering the edges of the little window. Two shadows' piercing gazes observed the scene going on inside the cozy little apartment through the thick glass misted by the temperature difference between there and the outside world.

Inside, gathered around a table overflowing with more food than the guest could ever eat, four figures were vigorously talking and smiling at each other. One had ashen blond hair and a sharp glaze and seemed more interested in the brunet sitting next to him than in the turkey thigh resting untouched on his plate. Then there was a short blond boy with deep blue eyes who was currently cutting the potatoes on his plate with extra care. And finally, stuffing his mouth with mashed potatoes drowned in gravy was a teal eyed boy with brown hair.

Outside, a naked figure, not the least bothered by the biting cold on her skin stretched before exclaiming.

“Christmas seems so nice! Humans really have the most interesting inventions.”

Her words owned her a dark glare from her short raven-haired companion. She chuckled, repositioning her glasses on the bridge of her nose.

“Your glare isn't as menacing now that your eyes aren't colored like the flames of hell”

The short demon groaned but didn't reply. Instead he let his golden eyes wander to the inside of the lively house, his gaze narrowing on the young brunet with gorgeous teal eyes. 

True, Rivaille had abandoned his place as the leader of the incubi a few months ago, but he didn't regret his decision. A small smile almost reached his lips upon seeing Eren laugh, his cheeks a healthy pink and his eyes bright, without any trace of the dark circles he bore months ago when Rivaille visited him every night.

“You know I think it's a good thing you became a softie for this human boy, Mikasa is doing a much better job at your job than you!”

“Shut up Hange” Rivaille breathed out without even looking at the succubus

Secretly Rivaille had always wanted Mikasa to succeed him as a leader, but he never expected it to come so quickly. He couldn't continue protecting his kind and visiting only one human, so he had to swallow his pride and let go of his position, for both Eren and his kind's sake.

Feelings were a weird thing he thought, and humans were even weirder things. But he had to admit Mikasa looked even more devilish and gorgeous with red eyes, the attribute of the leader.

The demon's eyes then shifted to take a better look at a joyful freckled face. He still wasn't used to seeing Marco with brown eyes instead of golden ones, but he was glad, for he never saw his fellow demon in such a good shape. It couldn't be seen under his ugly red sweater but Marco's ribs weren't showing under his skin anymore and Rivaille even thought he was getting a bit chubby, courtesy of the little human shit he was now sharing a place with.

“Marco has adapted so well to his new human life, even this intelligent looking blond friend of Jean didn't seem to suspect a thing! And look how happy he is!” Hange squealed “And observing him gives me so much data, I'm so glad my little magic trick worked!”

Rivaille sighed at Hange's rambling. He looked back at her with a poisonous glare when she elbowed him before saying.

“And I can tell you he is better at sex than he ever was as a lust demon” She winked before choking as Rivaille pulled her into a vicious head lock.

“We should leave them alone” He then whispered, releasing Hange from his death hold.

They both looked back to Jean and Marco before leaving. They were both looking into each others eyes lovingly, unaware of the ruckus going on outside their perfect little world. And as Hange and Rivaille disappeared into the cold night, the two lovers leaned in for a tender kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even if it didn't turn out as good as I wish it had, I'm glad I finished writing this little story and I hope you enjoyed reading it.
> 
> I have a big new Jean/Marco project in head an I'm actually working really hard on it now so maybe you'll hear about me soon.
> 
> Thanks again for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope your reading was enjoyable and I hope everyone was in character.  
> I've almost finished writing the whole fic so the next chapter should come out quite quickly.  
> Feel free to leave a comment if you have something to say, it would make me really happy.  
> And if by any chance you wish to find me on tumblr, my url is : http://hydrangeapartridge.tumblr.com/


End file.
